Witness
by dana-maru1
Summary: A young journalist is key witness to a horrific murder committed in her job area, Mulder and Scully investigate.
1. One

**_The first 7 chapters are reposts, after that, they're new._**

Disclaimer - All I own of the X-Files is the nine video box sets. In other words, Mulder and Scully aren't mine. Neither are Reyes and Doggett. But, Christine is my own...

Chapter One

I am slowly drifting through my apartment, numb to all emotions with the exception of one - fear. My entire body is trembling; making getting dressed a little more complicated than usual and my mind is fogged with so many thoughts and feelings all rolling into one. I had never anticipated what horrific events may take place as I took the extra work in New York, you see, as a journalist, I get the opportunity to travel a lot and meet new people, which is why I decided to become a reporter in the first place. I have met many people, from the homeless in Atlanta to the many celebrities dotted around all over America. I had been asked to interview a particularly well-known American actress when my troubles began...

I had just finished up interviewing Ms Bullock, had done with my assignment of asking about her latest movie and I was walking leisurely back toward my hotel room. I was passing a street that cuts off into an alley-way when I heard the scream that still haunts me in my sleep. It was the kind of scream that sent your blood boiling through your veins and made every minuscule hair on your body stand of end. I doubled-back to take a look down that alley and saw a large man hovering over a young girl whom looked to me like she lived and worked on the street. The man turned around to look at me; I'll never forget those eyes, so cold and pale, like there was something blocking out the light, hiding all emotion, and something I am not sure of is how his eyes shone like light blue torches in the dark. The face that glared over at me had a slight blue tinge from a few days worth of stubble. His brown hair was long and straggly and tied at the nape of his neck into a pony-tail and he was holding the end of the rope he had used to tie the poor girl's hands together. I just stood there, staring, too afraid to move or holler. I felt as though my whole body had frozen inside and out, my blood running cold while my feet quickly rooted themselves to the spot where I was standing. This man, whoever he was, didn't seem to care that I had seen him and continued in his evil mission, he leaned over her and I couldn't see what exactly he was doing but her smooth skin rapidly becoming inflamed with angry red blisters. It was then that my senses came back to me and the scene no longer played in slow-motion, I turned on my heels and ran as fast as my legs would carry me back to the safety of my hotel room. As soon as I called the police, I regretted it, I knew I would have to be dragged into it because of what I saw, because I was the only person who could tell anyone what this man looked like. Oh God, there's my cue to get a move on with packing my bags, the knocking at the door persisted and increased in volume, as did the fear throbbing through my body.


	2. Two

Chapter Two

I opened the door to reveal two FBI agents in smart suits who tell me they are Agents Mulder and Doggett. I can't think or see straight at the moment and I still cannot bring myself to accept the situation I am now in. I step through the door of my apartment and am immediately surrounded by more FBI Agents. Two women of the bureau introduce themselves as Agents Reyes and Scully - but I can call them Dana and Monica.

"So...you all set to go?"

It was Agent Reyes who spoke, dragging me out of my safe little imaginary world I had created on the spot inside my head.

"I-I suppose I am"

I wasn't ready and not so sure about this any more, didn't want to put my life in unnecessary danger - I mean, it wasn't as if this psycho was gonna find out where I was and come after me, or was he?

My heart is beating faster than a Ferrari can drive in a race. I am being led to a car, which is black all over, including the outside of the windows. I can feel what little color I have left in my cheeks fading out and the shivers that started earlier are now taking over my whole body. It must be obvious that I am terrified of what might happen.

"Are you okay?"

Agent Reyes looks worried; her expression almost mirrors what I am thinking.

"Yeah...I'm fine"

It's a downright lie but I am trying to make myself believe it even if no one else will.

"Are you sure? You don't look that good to me."

"Thanks! No, really, I'll be fine, just a little scared at the moment."

I get the distinct impression that Dana is psyche analyzing me, trying to figure out what is going on inside my head.

I am finally sitting inside the car, after what seemed like a millennium of walking. I am restless and shuffling around in my seat, unsure of how to handle what is happening, and aware that Dana and Monica keep giving me quick little side-ways glances wondering what they can say to me. Finally, Fox (Mulder) breaks the silence,

"So...you want me to fill you in on the case?"

"Yeah, sure" I say "Just leave out all the really gory parts, I don't think my stomach can handle it at the moment!"

I manage a weak smile at him and he returns it accompanied by little chuckle. Then he delves into the whole story about when the murders started and talks in length about the next-to-nothing evidence they have scraped from the case. I am trying to look as though I am interested, like I am actually listening but I am not sure the act is convincing.

"Fascinating, yet absolutely disgusting! I don't know how the hell you all can go through this kind of stuff every day."

"It's not _every day_; we do get _some _time off!"

I have to laugh at this comment from John Doggett, and I feel myself beginning to relax a little and almost forget about the case. We are traveling along a freeway and the traffic isn't getting any faster. The queue of cars and trucks is getting thicker and slowing down to an extent that we are now stuck in the middle of a traffic jam. I am getting some insight into the characters of the FBI agents; Fox Mulder is sort of lounging around - a laid-back type of guy. While both Dana Scully and Monica Reyes are getting slightly fidgety - impatient, active types who don't seem to like sitting still for long. And then we have John Doggett, getting very agitated that we have to sit in this stupid line for ages - he sums up as a very impatient man with a tendency to lash out with his fists when he is angry, rather than talk things through.

"Goddamn, fucking traffic jams! Why the fuck can't they just get a move-on?"

Okay, John isn't taking sitting in this endless jam very well. Neither are any of us now that we have been sitting here for over a half-hour and only have another hour to check in for our flight. I decide to break the tension a little,

"So, Dana, what made you want to join the Bureau?"

"Um, that's a good question! I don't really know the answer to that right now but at least someone can still put me on the spot! Um...I guess it was all the movies we used to watch when we were kids, my brothers, and me they made me watch the stuff they wanted to and never let me watch any 'Girly' things. So I had to kinda get interesting in 'Guy' movies and, when I was about thirteen, I decided that the FBI in the movies were so cool I had to be an Agent. But then I changed my mind and went to med school, to become a forensic pathologist, and then the Bureau recruited me as soon as I got my qualifications. At first it was really to debunk Mulder's work, but the more I saw the more I began to believe in it..."

I smile and the tension has lifted a little from the air, the rest of us join in the conversation and my career move question has backfired on me.

"Hey Christine - you don't mind if I call you that? - What made _you_ decide to choose to become a journalist?"

"I don't really have an answer to that I'm afraid, John...uh, I guess it was because of all the interviews I read in magazines and newspapers when I was growing up. I thought that it would be a pretty good way of getting a conversation outta a star."

I felt pretty damn stupid for having no real answer to that question when I knew the answer; I had become a journalist for a few reasons. One was that it was what my mom wanted me to do and I felt pressurized into it. Two, I really did think I could meet the stars and also get to travel a lot.

"Okay, your turn Fox, why did you pursue a career in the FBI?"

Let's see how much more stupid I am gonna feel then, when he answers.

"I dunno really ... okay I do but you wont believe me."

"Come on, we all answered it so you have to"

"All right, already! Lay off a little. I joined the bureau 'cause my dad worked for the government, in the Department of Defense and he got in with a bad crowd. They made alliances with aliens, had to give up a family member as a sorta deposit and they took my sister. So I have been spending a lotta time looking for Samantha."

"Yeah sure, like that's not a lie!"

"It really is the truth." He tells me, with a sad look in his eyes.

The conversation broke off and we were back to staring absent-mindedly out of the window, and we were finally moving away from the busy freeway and heading toward the entrance of the airport

**_In loving memory of Sam Weis. He was the nicest old man anyone could ever meet. Sadly he passed last night, November 14th 2004. He always had a quiz for me, and in honor of him I'm going to pass one on to you guys - I'll answer next chapter lol: _If it takes an hour to dig a hole, how long would it take to dig half a hole?**


	3. Three

**Q: If it takes an hour to dig a hole, how long would it take to dig half a hole?   
A: You can't dig HALF a hole. A hole's a hole.**

**Chapter Three**

We near the doors leading into the airport and the engine grinds to a halt. I reluctantly climb out of the car while the gentleman that would be Fox, holds the door open for me. The trunk of the car lies open and John is dragging my heavy luggage out of it. It lands with a light thud on the tarmac. My fear is kicking in again and so many random thoughts are zooming across my brain - _what if he **does **come after me? Why the hell did it have to be **me** who saw it happen? And why do I have to be the one who is cursed with a photographic memory?_So many questions that will go unanswered for the time being. I am taking in my surroundings while we trudge along to the check-in area, everything is so bright and there are hundreds, maybe thousands of _normal _people rushing around after their kids or gathering belongings when their flights are called. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be part of the rigmarole now, to be back in the crowd where I feel safe. But I know it isn't going to happen for a long time yet, not until they catch this maniac who gets a kick outta burning hookers.

'_Will all those boarding flight NY2879, start making their way to the gates please'_

Our cue to move our asses and go get on the plane. I turn around in two small circles looking for my bag before I remember that it is already on its way to the plane without me. So I follow the Agents who have been assigned to protect me from the sick fuck who preys on young women on the streets of New York. It is not long before the thoughts I have tried so hard to ignore start playing again in my head,

This guy must have a real sad life if he gets his kicks outta killing people. What has he got against young women? Or more specifically young, slim, blonde prostitutes. I mean what the hell did they do to him to make him hate them so much? God, you have no idea what I would like to do to this guy if he gets caught - correction _when _he gets caught.

I look at my watch as we sit in our seats, it is only 9:30 am, and I notice that it is already the 16th of August, two days until I am twenty-three years old. Where has time gone over the past couple of days? It feels like since I was told I had to go into hiding, the days following have rolled themselves into one_ long_ day. Goes to show there is no truth in the phrase 'Time flies when your having fun', because I have certainly **not** been having that much fun over the past couple of days!

I am finally boarding an airplane with a hell of a lot more legroom than the ones I am accustomed to traveling in and I take my seat next to the window with Agent Scully on the other side of me. There is something comforting about Dana's appearance, I'm not sure what it is, maybe the fact that she has such a small, feminine build yet is treated kinda like one of the guys when she is around her male colleagues, she fits in with them easily. She is very pretty, a face most women would die for - refined features. Blue eyes, and perfect flame colored hair. She could maybe have done something other than chasing psychos, perhaps modeling or acting, she _has_ got the looks for it. Whereas, I'm only good for interviewing the celebrities, where my face is _behind_ the cameras. _Don't dwell on the things you can't do, focus on the things you can._That's what my mom always told me when I was little, if I got upset at failing to achieve something. Although, this time around, I don't think those words will have much effect on me considering the circumstances. Random thoughts have started to form in my head again out of sheer boredom; _I cannot believe how down to earth Ms Bullock was when I spoke to her. It was like she didn't give a damn about all the money that she has earned from acting... it hasn't changed who she is.God when are we gonna land?_

I hear a faint voice that sounds as though it is coming from miles away, and I ignore it, continuing to confuse myself with random thoughts rolling on.

"Christine? Hello, anyone there?"

"What's the matter, Dana?"

"Nothing really, just wondering if you're feeling okay. You know you'd be better to discuss how you feel."

I reflect on the gesture, but I never was one to spill my heart out to strangers or to anyone I knew, for that matter.

"No, I'll be okay."

"Okay, if you're sure. Do you mind me asking about your job?"

"I don't mind, ask away."

"Who were you interviewing when we had to drag you outta there?"

"Sandra Bullock, why?"

"I just wanna talk, and it sounds like a good conversation, you are really lucky to get to travel without the hardship of constantly chasing the bad guys. And you get to meet so many famous people."

"I suppose those are the good traits but I'm not that lucky if I have to be the one who witnesses that kinda thing happening."

"I know how you feel, there have been loads of times when I didn't want to look at the scene of a crime or have to 'dissect' a dead body when the victim is a child. But if you think that what you saw is bad, you should see some of the mutants I have met along the way!"

I have to laugh - I mean mutants? Come on.

"I'm serious, Mulder and I have worked on a division of the Bureau called The X Files for oh, years, and we focus on unexplainable cases, where the suspects tend to be..._unnatural_."

"Was Fox's sister really taken by aliens?"

"He believes that is what he saw the night she was abducted."

"But...aliens don't really exist, do they?"

"Yeah, actually, they do, I've seen some pretty weird things over nine years including real aliens."


	4. Four

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Chapter Four

I am running, running as fast as my legs will carry me through the empty streets. It is late at night or extremely early in the morning, there is absolutely no one around and the man is chasing me between blocks of buildings. _Where are the agents that are supposed to be protecting me? _My breath is quickening and my chest hurts and so do my arms and legs. I can't run anymore, I'm too tired. My legs give way as the murderer catches up with me then as I hit the ground, he pounces on me and...

"Christine, wake up, we're here."

I don't respond, I am sure I have just woken up in the hospital and will be covered in those ugly blisters. I don't want to wake up like that. Someone lays a hand on my shoulder and gently shakes me awake.

"Come on, Christine, do you want to stay on the plane all night?"

Thank God! So I'm not in a hospital bed - I'm still on the plane - phew! I've decided it is safe now to open my eyes. Dana has a concerned look on her face, I gaze up at her confused. Then as she brushes her hand against my forehead I realize I must be burning up. Well no wonder considering the amount of exercise in that dream. Not a dream, it was the worst nightmare ever!

"You ready to go?"

Fox has a hold of my carry bag and Dana's. I get the distinct impression that Fox and Dana have feelings for each other. The way they look at each other says it all yet neither of the two have acted on the feelings. Hmm maybe I can do something about that while I share a room with the two female agents. It would also appear that Monica is in love with John and vice versa too. I'll have to work on that one as well, when or if I get the chance.

We're in another blacked-out car, driving through the town. I have only known the four agents for a couple of days, yet Dana and Monica are like old friends. I don't really know if I like John yet. But Fox, well do I really need to say anything? He's a really nice guy, even if he does have weird ideas. And man is he HOT! I can definitely tell what Dana sees in him. I don't have a chance with him though. I don't compare to her. They have known each other for years and probably know everything there is to know about each other. Oh well, better luck next time...

The roads are empty in the suburbs, we are whizzing past endless fields at the moment. The dream is almost out of my memory, but the murderer's cold blue eyes will always be imprinted in my memory. I shiver at the thought. I wish I wasn't in the same car as a medical doctor! Dana keeps giving me those little sideways glance to make sure I'm not gonna freak out or go into shock or something. And I swear if John doesn't stop drumming his fingers on the window - I am gonna cut them off! How can this one man irritate me so much? Maybe it's just the fact that my nerves are extremely frayed or it could be just him...I dunno.

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Thanks for the kind reviews so far.


	5. Five

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Okay, in this fic Monica never quit smoking :o

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Chapter 5

Finally! I am settled into the safe house, sharing a room with Monica and Dana. The Bureau has regulations so it wont be too easy for couples to get together but they're not gonna know if you still book in for two rooms! Well, at least I have plenty of time to work on Dana and find out exactly how she feels, and maybe try talking her into doing something about it.

"Mind if I smoke?" I ask

"Not if you share." Monica chirps back, smiling

"Do you smoke, Dana?"

"Used to ... but light up if you must." She sighs

So I handed a cig to Monica and lay back on the bed with my ashtray balanced on my stomach, watching the smoke drift in the room. Dana got up to open a window, probably in case the smoke choked her or something. To be honest, I didn't care at that point in time, I hadn't had a cigarette in about thirty-six hours and that is **not** a good thing - especially with the kind of time I've been having lately! I lie in silence watching the smoke rings Monica is sending through the air. I try it too, I could do it once but somehow I lost the ability. Here goes...nope! Damn!

"Hey can you teach me?"

"Sure, you just have to shape your mouth properly and only let little puffs of smoke come out."

So I did, and it worked. Monica started showing off then, and blew a love heart toward the door just as John was walking through it.

"Tryin' to tell me something Mon?"

Obviously he was joking, but only half. He just didn't wanna give anything away - especially his heart. She blushed as red as a tomato - probably brighter. Her cheeks are positively _glowing_.

"Like what?"

She finally manages to reply. The red in her cheeks is fading but you can tell she is still embarrassed by what he said. What's the point? It was only a jokey remark, or at least he would like us all to think so, really it was wishful thinking on his part. Hey, just because I'm a journalist doesn't mean I'm not good at psychology. Well I wasn't at college but that's not the point I'm trying to make here!

At last the jerk leaves, there is something about him I don't like and I can't put my finger on it right now. _Why hellooo Fox. _Fox Mulder just scurried past the door in the tightest jeans. Man, his ass looks good in those jeans! _Okay, stop it Christine... I said **stop it! **_Thank heavens he has gone into his room with John. Now I can stop looking like I have saucers for eyes! Anyway, it's so obvious he has a thing for Dana, and she for him ... I'll just get up and close the door. Oh SHIT! There goes my ashtray on the goddamn floor. _Clumsy little idiot, Christine, always making a mess of things_.

"I'll get the vacuum cleaner."

"No, it's okay Monica; I'll do it since it's my mess."

Too late to argue, she was already rooting around the closet and pulling it out. So I had no choice but to let her clear up my the ash and cigarette butts.

"I've gotta clean up my own messes some time you know!"

"Yeah, but in the mean time, we get to do it for you."

I roll my eyes and turn to stare out of the window. This was going to be my new life and I hope it isn't going to be like this forever. I mean, I do like the agents and such - well except John - but I don't care much for being in hiding. I want to be able to walk around the shops by myself, not under the constant watch of my 'protectors'.

It's my birthday tomorrow and I am miles away from almost anyone I know. And I am not looking forward to it, I just want to be in my own home and have the chance to be alone once in awhile.

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A review would be nice ... Sorry I took so long to update - had severe writer's block on this ..


	6. Six

**__**

Okay, in this fic Monica never quit smoking :o

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Chapter 5

Finally! I am settled into the safe house, sharing a room with Monica and Dana. The Bureau has regulations so it wont be too easy for couples to get together but they're not gonna know if you still book in for two rooms! Well, at least I have plenty of time to work on Dana and find out exactly how she feels, and maybe try talking her into doing something about it.

"Mind if I smoke?" I ask

"Not if you share." Monica chirps back, smiling

"Do you smoke, Dana?"

"Used to ... but light up if you must." She sighs

So I handed a cig to Monica and lay back on the bed with my ashtray balanced on my stomach, watching the smoke drift in the room. Dana got up to open a window, probably in case the smoke choked her or something. To be honest, I didn't care at that point in time, I hadn't had a cigarette in about thirty-six hours and that is **not** a good thing - especially with the kind of time I've been having lately! I lie in silence watching the smoke rings Monica is sending through the air. I try it too, I could do it once but somehow I lost the ability. Here goes...nope! Damn!

"Hey can you teach me?"

"Sure, you just have to shape your mouth properly and only let little puffs of smoke come out."

So I did, and it worked. Monica started showing off then, and blew a love heart toward the door just as John was walking through it.

"Tryin' to tell me something Mon?"

Obviously he was joking, but only half. He just didn't wanna give anything away - especially his heart. She blushed as red as a tomato - probably brighter. Her cheeks are positively _glowing_.

"Like what?"

She finally manages to reply. The red in her cheeks is fading but you can tell she is still embarrassed by what he said. What's the point? It was only a jokey remark, or at least he would like us all to think so, really it was wishful thinking on his part. Hey, just because I'm a journalist doesn't mean I'm not good at psychology. Well I wasn't at college but that's not the point I'm trying to make here!

At last the jerk leaves, there is something about him I don't like and I can't put my finger on it right now. _Why hellooo Fox. _Fox Mulder just scurried past the door in the tightest jeans. Man, his ass looks good in those jeans! _Okay, stop it Christine... I said **stop it!**_ Thank heavens he has gone into his room with John. Now I can stop looking like I have saucers for eyes! Anyway, it's so obvious he has a thing for Dana, and she for him ... I'll just get up and close the door. Oh SHIT! There goes my ashtray on the goddamn floor. _Clumsy little idiot, Christine, always making a mess of things_.

"I'll get the vacuum cleaner."

"No, it's okay Monica; I'll do it since it's my mess."

Too late to argue, she was already rooting around the closet and pulling it out. So I had no choice but to let her clear up my the ash and cigarette butts.

"I've gotta clean up my own messes some time you know!"

"Yeah, but in the mean time, we get to do it for you."

I roll my eyes and turn to stare out of the window. This was going to be my new life and I hope it isn't going to be like this forever. I mean, I do like the agents and such - well except John - but I don't care much for being in hiding. I want to be able to walk around the shops by myself, not in constant watch of my 'protectors'.

It's my birthday tomorrow and I am miles away from almost anyone I know. And I am not looking forward to it, I just want to be in my own home and have the chance to be alone once in awhile.

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A review would be nice ... Sorry I took so long to update - had severe writer's block on this ..


	7. Seven

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Chapter 7

I think I'll open that cigarette pack now, I need to calm my nerves! Jesus Christ - How the hell did he know who and where I am? I pass the note to Monica, and like mine, her jaw drops almost to the floor.

"What's up with you guys?"

Ow! Being perched on the edge of a bed already in a state of shock is **not** a good position to be in when someone bursts through the door unexpectantly! I jumped so much I actually ended up on the floor! Damn it. Oh, who can stay angry with Fox Mulder for long when he has such a cute expression like that on his face? It's like he doesn't know if he should laugh or not and he's fighting it hard.

"Go on, laugh - you know you want to." I say as I pick myself off the floor. Surprisingly he doesn't.

"Normally I would ... but you two look too concerned about something. What's up?"

So Monica handed him the note I'd passed her from this crazed freak killer. He says nothing, just disappears across the hall to get John. They come back together, John still buttoning a white shirt, and Fox has his cell phone glued to his ear willing someone to pick up.

"At last! Scully you gotta get here - fast. Something's up. No, we're all here, just _move_."

I can't hear a word from the other end but I can hear it from the hallway. Although Mulder can't and he has his back to the door as Dana advances on him from behind.

"Good morning!"

"Argh! Don't do that! Jeez ..."

"Okay, what's so important I sprinted up the stairs and leave our breakfast?"

Come to think of it, she doesn't look her usual neat self, her hair is all over the place and her cheeks are flushed and her coat isn't even on one of her shoulders. Somehow, though, she still looks as good as ever...

"Um ... where is it?"

"Where's what, Mulder?"

"Breakfast, where is it?"

"In the car, now tell me what's wrong!"

Fox just bolts past her through the door, grabbing the keys from Dana's hand as he passes.

"_Mulder_!"

He didn't answer her. She turned on Monica and me.

"Typical - always thinking of that stomach of his first. Aliens second and 'normal' cases last. So, any of you care to tell me what happened?"

"Here," Monica says, passing the note again, "you might find this interesting."

She holds a tiny corner of the note as she reads over it. Probably to keep it clear of her fingerprints. Oops, too late for that. It's got everyone else's on it, and this guy is smart, I doubt he's gonna leave any.

"I'll take this down and get it analyzed later, but first we have to get out of here."

"Dana, wouldn't we be better leaving at night when he's probably gonna be out 'victim hunting' or something? I mean, he could be watching us just now..."

"Maybe, we'll have to discuss it with Mulder when he gets back."

Fox came back, looking almost as disheveled as Dana did - before she'd decided to borrow my hairbrush and my mirror - and carrying too much.

He struggled with his load and dumped the brown paper bags on my bed, trying to keep hold of the coffee cups. Eugh, just the _thought_ of coffee is enough to make me feel sick right now. Weird, I'm practically addicted to the stuff, but the smell of it has my stomach spinning like the wheel in a tumble-drier. Though, I really could do with a bagel ... wonder what Dana got on them.

"They're all Philadelphia cheese." Fox told me as if he was reading my thoughts. I grab a bag - I must look like a complete pig with half a bagel sticking out my mouth while I move the coffee cups away but it'll save me from the humiliation of being sick all over the carpet.

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	8. Eight

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Chapter 8

We ate the rest of the bagels in silence. With breakfast out of the way, Dana decides she should take the notes and flowers down to the lab to analyze them. Monica and I volunteer to go with her after we all get dressed. Wouldn't exactly go down well being out in public in our pajamas! So we all took turns to use the bathroom, and head for the labs. We stand next to Dana as she dusts each lily delicately, trying to find fingerprints. But there is none. Not one. Not even on the notes. Well except the four sets that belong to us - and the partial one that belongs to Dana. But obviously, those aren't going to help us much with the case. So Dana snaps the latex gloves off and tosses them in the trash. She sighs in frustration and makes her way to the door. We follow her, in silence, as we walk through the white halls that contain all the labs in the building.

Back at the hotel, Mulder and Doggett are packing their things back into suitcases lying open on their twin beds. I light another cigarette and pass one to Monica who takes a grateful drag. Well, it has been an extremely stressful time lately. Trying to put the packet of cigs back in my pocket, I miss and they end up on the ground. Dana picks them up for me, after taking a cigarette for herself.

"I thought you didn't smoke?" I say, bemused.

"I don't." She replies casually, "but when I'm angry or stressed I'm prone to lighting up sometimes, even after all these years."

I simply nod and watch her take a long drag. Flicking my own ash in the small glass ashtray, I wonder what the plan is. I mean ... if we have to get out of here, where are we going to go? And what if that maniac finds us again? Fuck it. I'm not going to worry about it. I'll worry about the whole situation later, when we're leaving. Right now, I have a cigarette to smoke, and two great women to talk to. Maybe now's the time to work on the Mulder-Scully thing. Hmm.

"Hey Dana, what's with you and Mulder?" I ask, trying not to sound too curious. Or nosy.

"Other than being FBI partners, nothing." She tells me. Liar.

"Yeah, sure, Dana and I'm Bob Marley!" Monica tells her, and receives a slap on the arm.

"Ow, that hurt!"

"It was supposed to. Anyway, enough about me. What about _you_ and Doggett?"

Yep, turn the tables. Smart move. But not the answer I was looking for.

"Dana! I told you already there's _nothing_ going on with us. And I mean nothing!" She says firmly. Hah!

"Then why did you blow a smoke-heart when he walked through the door this morning?" Dana asked.

"Oh come on, you know I didn't mean that!" Monica exclaims, looking increasingly flustered.

"Maybe not, but it fitted for a perfect moment. And the look on your face was priceless!"

"Ha ha, you're so not funny." Monica tells me in reply. Not funny huh? Why is she trying not to laugh then?

"Anyway... as I was saying. What _is_ going on with you and Mulder?"

"Yeah, I'd like to know that one too, Dana!" Monica throws in.

Monica ducks away from the pillow Dana throws at her. I laugh at Monica. Then at Dana who is obviously embarrassed at being asked such a question. There's obviously something there so I keep asking. But every time Monica or I ask her a question, she either changes the subject or flips the tables back on us. Right. That's it. I give up.

****

Like it? Hate it? Reviews welcome, you can even flame it if you like. Either way, I want feedback :o)

Am I the only one that thinks I've lost the feel of my original character?


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